


after all this time, we're still in love with the typical things

by majesdane



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Boys always liked Katie better than her.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	after all this time, we're still in love with the typical things

  
when you're young, you think everything you do is disposable. you move from now to now, crumpling time up in your hands, tossing it away. you're your own speeding car. you think you can get rid of things, and people too -- leave them behind.

you don't yet know about the habit they have, of coming back.

\-- margaret atwood, _the blind assassin_

 

 

 

Katie always had boyfriends.

This was a universal truth that went hand-in-hand with two others, which were _Katie is always right_ and _Katie always gets what she wants_. Katie always had boyfriends. It first started when they were seven, when Thomas Reed, who was in a grade above them, kissed Katie in the playground before classes on a dreary day that hinted of rain to come. (And it did rain, later, and Thomas walked Katie home under his brolly while Emily was left to her own defences, tagging along five feet behind and struggling to keep hold of the oversized one their mum had handed them before ushering them out the door earlier that morning.) Emily could tell that this was a proper kiss, not like when Michael Kent kissed Katie on the cheek that one time when they were five or the time last year when Katie decided they should all play spin the bottle and dragged Emily along (she didn't get kissed once, but Katie got kissed a lot, and Emily suspected the boys had been cheating).

Boys always liked Katie better than her.

It was fine, really, because Emily didn't really like any of the boys at their school. She'd gotten her hair pulled too many times to count -- though that stopped when Katie kicked one boy in the bollocks one time after a particularly hard yank that had made Emily burst into tears, and it had been especially awesome of her, even if they _did_ both get grounded later that day because of it. So she didn't like that and she didn't like the names boys sometimes called her or the way they'd get all pushy on the few times she thought it would be fun to join in on their games of footy. (She never got passed to anyway.)

Katie said that boys were like that because they liked her. Emily got the same response from her mum, when she complained one afternoon, coming home with scraped knees, and it didn't help or make her feel better, because her knees still hurt and boys were gross and smelly and dirty anyway and Emily could think of much better ways of telling someone you liked them then pushing them down on the pavement. She tried to avoid them as much as possible, but that proved to be a difficult task, given that boys _always_ followed Katie around and Katie always wanted _Emily_ to tag along as well.

And they were _nice_ to _Katie_ \-- always wanting to hold her hand and do things for her and kiss her on the cheek (or on the lips, if Katie was being especially daring). Emily thought it was a bit unfair, but then realized that she didn't really want all of that anyway, and then decided she wasn't actually all that jealous of the attention Katie got. Katie thought it was a laugh, anyway; at night, when they were meant to be sleeping (though Emily always stayed up late to read), Katie would crawl into bed with her and, giggling, tell Emily all about the boys at their school.

One time Emily got curious and asked what it was like, kissing, and Katie just said that it was sort of nice, but all the boys she'd kissed were sort of sloppy or had bad breath. It sounded terribly gross to Emily and she'd made a face. She wanted to know why -- if it was so bad -- Katie kept kissing them.

" _Because_ ," Katie said with an exaggerated eyeroll and in a voice that meant Emily was being stupid, "they're well fit, yeah? And it's what you're _supposed_ to do with boys. Duh."

Oh, Emily thought, and felt very dumb indeed. She wondered if maybe there was something wrong, because she didn't think that kissing boys sounded very fun at all and the boys at the school didn't seem quite as nice or fit as Katie seemed to think they were.

She didn't tell that to Katie, though, because Katie would have said she was being stupid and would have made her go kiss a boy then, just to prove a point, and for some reason, the thought of that made Emily feel sick to her stomach, like the time she and Katie went on the spinning cups ride when their parents had taken them to Brighton for a weekend holiday.

 

;;

 

Emily was ten when she met Naomi Campbell.

They were all made to get partners to work on a book report together; Katie had been planning on the two of them working together, but the teacher had made them split up and work with different people. Katie got stuck with Olivia Thompson, whose hair and clothes were well bad (according to Katie), and Emily got put with Naomi, who scowled at her and slid down further in her seat when Emily looked across the room and gave a small wave.

Undeterred, Emily went over to her during lunch, plopping down her lunch next to Naomi, who was sitting off at a corner table, her nose buried in a book that Emily had never heard of, but it looked impressively smart and difficult.

"Hello," she said, as nicely as she could manage and flashing Naomi a bright smile (her mum would have been proud). "I'm Emily."

"I know who you are," Naomi said with a deep sigh of irritation. "We're in the same class."

Emily felt her face grow hot and mumbled a quiet " _Sorry_."

Naomi, not looking up, said, "Don't say that. It's fine."

"Okay." Naomi was a difficult person to talk to, Emily was beginning to work out, especially since she seemed to be pretending that Emily wasn't there; she kept right on reading, occasionally taking a sip of her juice. Emily was used to being ignored -- especially now that Katie had found a new boyfriend in Sean Morris, who was two years older than them -- and so she sat there patiently, eating her sandwich and waiting for Naomi to stop acting like she wasn't there.

Eventually Naomi sighed again and folded over a corner of a page in her book before snapping it shut. "We don't have to be friends, okay?"

Emily was startled. "What?"

"I don't -- people don't really like me," Naomi said, after a moment, faltering a bit. "I know you didn't want to work with me. It's okay -- I didn't want to work with you either. I wanted to work by myself."

"Oh." Emily felt herself flush again. Then, "I don't mind working with you. It's just, well, Katie and I usually work together, you know? That's how we always do things. Together. That's sort of the point in having a sister, right?"

Naomi snorted.

"What?"

"I just think it's funny," Naomi said, with something that almost resembled a smile. "You and Katie are twins, but you're nothing alike."

Emily considered it for a moment. "I suppose that's true. Katie's likes to be loud and I liked to be quiet. I like to read and Katie doesn't like to do that. Also, Katie has boyfriends, and I don't, but that's okay, because I don't want a boyfriend anyway," she hurried on, feeling like she needed to defend herself from her last statement, like she sounded too much like a loser.

"You're funny," Naomi said, and this time she _did_ smile, but then lunch was over and Katie was suddenly standing there waiting for Emily to throw her rubbish away in the bin so that they could go outside and play jump rope with Katie's friends.

Naomi slipped away without a word and Emily felt a surge of disappointment at that, because she would have really liked to ask Naomi to come play with them. But then again, Emily thought maybe Naomi wouldn't like that sort of thing, maybe she'd rather sit and read. It sounded nice, actually, the idea of being able to sit and read and not have to worry that Katie was going to come rip the book out of your hands -- effectively tearing the pages -- and tell you to "stop wasting your time on stupid books, because they're well boring, yeah?"

Maybe Naomi would let her read with her. That would be nice.

 

;;

 

Naomi was best when she was quiet, Emily realized.

She also did this thing when she was reading, biting down on her lip and absentmindedly twirling a strand of white-blond hair around a finger. Sometimes Emily would glance over the top of her book and see her doing it, and all of a sudden she'd catch herself and realize that she'd just wasted the last five minutes watching Naomi read. Naomi also had very pretty blue eyes, which reminded Emily of painting with watercolours, when the blue got too watery and came out too light. She was also a foot taller than Emily was, which was kind of annoying and made Emily feel like a little kid (which she wasn't).

Katie asked once, about her, and Emily just shrugged and said Naomi was okay. Katie, curled up against her in bed, yawned and told Emily that she'd heard from Olivia (who Katie was suddenly now friends with) that Naomi was weird. Emily just shrugged again and then gave Katie a shove and told her to get out, because she was tired and wanted to sleep.

Emily had _wanted_ to say that Naomi was very cool, actually, and pretty -- more so than the other girls in their year -- and smart too, but it seemed sort of nice, to keep it to herself. It was a secret, she thought, lying awake and listening to Katie's gentle snoring across the room. But it was a good secret, she decided, after a few more minutes, and fell asleep thinking about Naomi worrying her bottom lip as she read, eyes fixed on the book in front of her.

 

;;

 

The deadline for their book reports came and went and soon enough it was time for summer holiday. Emily hadn't spoken to Naomi since the last time they'd met in the library to go over their report one last time before handing it in. Naomi had a new bag with her that day. It said _Warning: Contains Ideas_. Emily didn't quite get it, but it was funny to see Naomi walk around carrying a bag that was almost as big as her. She'd laughed when Naomi had struggled to pick it up -- it'd been weighed down with too many books -- and Naomi had glared at her and Emily'd had to rush in and reassure her that it was cool -- that she _looked_ cool. That it was nice.

(It was, actually.)

Katie was well pleased that school was over, as she said several times the morning of their last day of classes, and then several times again later on the walk back home. Emily wasn't quite as fussed though, since she rather liked school, and summer holiday meant having to spend _all_ her time with Katie and James, who was five years younger and incredibly obnoxious. It also meant having to go on stupid trips to stupid places with their mum and dad, who for some reason always managed to find the most boring places in the world to go visit.

And summer meant no Naomi, which Emily thought maybe shouldn't sound as bad as it felt, because it wasn't like Naomi was actually her friend or anything and they hadn't talked since March, but Emily had sort of gotten used to looking at her in class, and well, she'd sort of kept hoping that Naomi would remember they knew each other and would ask Emily to come sit with her at lunch or something equally as nice.

It would have been nice to have been friends with her, Emily thought, and went out back to the garden where dandelions, all bright gold and annoying and stupidly reminding her of Naomi, were growing in-between her flowers.


End file.
